


Mutually beneficial

by FedonCiadale



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Birthday Fluff, Creature Fic, EWE, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Happy Ending, Humor, Light Angst, Mandatory PDA, Pining, Sly Draco, Veela Draco Malfoy, flirty banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24553771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FedonCiadale/pseuds/FedonCiadale
Summary: It's a win-win: Hermione's campaign for free house elves will get boosted with Malfoy money and the Malfoy name will be cleared by association with the Golden Girl. This is an ulterior motive for marrying, but it is mutually beneficial. Or is there another reason?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 66
Kudos: 472
Collections: Happy Birthday Mr. Malfoy





	1. The Proposal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maybe_hufflepuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybe_hufflepuff/gifts).



They sat in a nice muggle restaurant. She had insisted on ‘neutral’ ground to talk about his proposal, a proposal that had sat on her desk for three months. He was desperate and running out of time, but at least she had not outright burned it. They had run through the proposal for an hour.

She tsked when she closed the rather impressive binder of many pages. Draco had worked for literal years on this. For him only one thing was important, and he hoped that it was well hidden in between the unimportant rubbish.

She had made some notes with her muggle pen and now laid the pen on top of the notes, tidy as ever. “I don’t understand.”

“Granger, I don’t know what is so difficult about this. It would be an arrangement that benefits us both. You do have a brain, use it!”

She studied him with narrowed eyes. “Malfoy, believe me, the logic of mutually beneficial win-win situations is not that difficult to grasp. I got that right away. I get your money to support my house elf campaign and you can clear the Malfoy name by associating with me.”

“And you can rub our engagement under your ex’s nose,” he added, just to be clear. “And you have a date for Potter’s wedding next week.”

“Harry’s,” she corrected him. “Our ‘arrangement’ is only going to work if you don’t insult my friends.”

“Do you really want me to call your friends by their first names?”

“Yes, Malfoy” She accentuated the last bit.

He threw his hand’s up. “O.k. Harry it is. Harry, Ron, Luna, Neville, Ginny, got it.”

“I’m surprised you actually know their names.” She raised an eyebrow.

“I’m full of surprises.” He winked at her.

“So, I’ve noticed. I certainly didn’t expect this proposal.”

And it had taken her long enough to even look at it. “Come on Granger, your house elf campaign has been stalling for years. You’ve been complaining about this every time we chanced upon each other. You’ll never get any of your laws passed if you do not hook up with old money.”

“I resent the term ‘hook up’ in this context. If I understood you correctly, sex is not necessarily part of this.”

“Not immediately, no. In the long run, I would definitely argue in favour of sex. I mean, I cannot marry without a wizarding ceremony, as old-fashioned that might look to you, and that involves a fidelity clause, and I’m not going to abandon sex for ever. I do have beautiful hands, if I say so myself, but in the long run….”

She pressed her lips together, clearly suppressing an amused smirk. “You told me, that there would be a divorce after four years. You would rely on your hands for four years?” He loved how her tongue danced on her lips just for the fraction of a second and how her eyes glinted at her joke.

He rudely stamped on the temptation to babble about how she was the only option for him. If he had not trained himself to go against the need to tell her the truth, that was settled in his bones he would not have managed.

“I said, we can renegotiate after four years. It obviously depends on how far our mutually beneficial projects have progressed.” He smiled.

“I still think you have some other additional agenda.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I admit it makes sense, and I am so frustrated with how the campaign goes, that I am inclined to consider your proposal….”

He grinned.

“Consider, Malfoy, Consider… I did not say accept.” She studied him. Draco tried to remain calm and unaffected.

He stood. “Want a good look?”

“Don’t you want to marry for love?” she asked.

He had to rein in himself again.

“Malfoys don’t marry for love. We’ve had centuries of arranged marriages. And you would be surprised how often that worked out. We already work very well together.” he explained. “Remember when we both negotiated with the centaurs on behalf of the ministry.”

She waved that away. “Marriage is not just working together, and yes, Malfoy I admit we do work together nicely. Still, it seems illogical to me. You, a pureblood, would marry a muggleborn, but the marriage would still be arranged and negotiated.” Hermione was insistent. He would have to play the right cards.

“Oh Granger, that is a bit low. You know, that I haven’t believed in this whole purity crap for quite some time.” Deflection worked always best, when you could guilt the other party into believing they insulted you. He did his best to make what his mother called his ‘whiny’ face.

Hermione laughed, and her laughter resonated somewhere deep in his core.

“I detest you Malfoy, and not for blood reasons,” she said. Her eyes still danced with laughter though.

He shrugged. “But you detest losing this campaign much more than you detest me. And it’s a lie anyway. Your laughter says it’s a lie. You actually love to banter with me.”

He sat again. “Look, Granger, I’ll turn twenty-four in a fortnight. Give me four years. By then you’ll be twenty-eight. Still young enough to start over with some of these poor sods who pretend to adore you and are no match for you intellectually.”

She laughed again. Draco hoped that he could make a habit out of that. Making her laugh at his jokes.

“So, a divorce after four years? What should we give as a reason, Malfoy? Irreconcilable differences?”

“Irreconcilable differences are a bit lame, if I may say so. But we’ll cover that, when we get there, Granger. Since your friends probably expect something like a love story, we should first work at the beginning.”

“And the whole clearing of the Malfoy name would work better with a love story as well. I’m all ears, Malfoy, tell me how we came to love each other.” Hermione bent forward.

“It can’t be sappy enough. I’ve given this some thought.” Draco studied her face and tried to keep the mood light and teasing. It would not do, if Hermione even suspected that he was not pulling this out of his hat.

“What about an ancient Malfoy or even better a Black curse. I was about to die, and only your love could rescue me?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Malfoy, really”.

“I realised how amortentia smells like you in sixth year.” He could tell her all his truths, and she still had this slightly sceptic look in her face.

“Or we accidentally swallowed amortentia and realised we were in love after the effect had vanished and we still were horny for each other.” He really upped on the story now. That made her laugh again.

“When we went to visit that centaur settling, we had to stay the night, and the hotel had only one room left. And there was only one bed,” Hermione suggested.

“And we couldn’t disapparate because …?” Draco raised an eyebrow.

“Because of reasons.” Her laughter was music. “Malfoy, you can do better than that.”

He inhaled. “I had a crush on you forever and ever. But I was confused because you were a muggleborn and it was forbidden to love you. How about that?”

Hermione spit out her tea. “And that is why you insulted me all these times! You desperately tried to keep your distance. Little boys pulling girls’ ponytails?”

“Ah, you get the gist of it.” Draco gave her a paper tissue to wipe away the split tea. She couldn’t spell it away in a muggle restaurant after all.

“The war happened, and you were devastated,” Hermione spun on the tale. Her grin had not faded yet. “You did not identify Harry that day at the manor, because it was the only way to buy time.”

“That is a good idea,” Draco agreed. His heart was filled with joy at her laughter and clenched at her nonchalance.

She threw the paper tissue on the table. “You cast a secret spell, so that the curse your deranged aunt wrote onto my skin would not settle in.”

Draco pursed his lips. His heart beat somewhat erratically. “That might be going too far. A Gryffindor would do something like that.”

“Rita Skeeter would lap it up. You know, we could give an interview to Rita. You only confessed after I broke up with Ron, obviously.”

“I did not consider myself worthy of you, but I finally worked up the courage when some day you were in tears about the house elves again.”

“Tell me more, Malfoy.”

“I freed the Malfoy elves and arranged their new contracts just as you have suggested in your multiple proposals to the ministry.”

Hermione began to laugh again, but when she saw his smile, she stopped herself.

“You didn’t!” she exclaimed.

Draco shrugged. “I did. A gesture of good will to show you I am really serious about this proposal. The proposal I gave you three months ago.”

“I think, we should go for that story, it is so absurd, that everybody will believe it.” She chuckled.

“So, will you bring me as your date to the wedding next week?” The wedding should have enough people to be witness to their relationship.

She grinned mischievously. “I think I uncovered another of your motives, Malfoy. We will steal the limelight from Harry and Ginny. That is so mean.”

“It’s not mean, not at all,” Draco argued. “We would be doing them a favour. Harry will be beside himself with joy, when we get the reporters of his back.”

“Harry?” she asked.

“You told me to start calling him Harry.” He shuddered elaborately.

He put his hands in the pocket of his jacket and angled out the little box.

“You brought a ring?” Hermione took the box.

“I prepared this proposal in true Slytherin fashion. Of course, I have a ring, Granger.”

She opened the box, and studied the simple band, that held just a single small ruby.

Draco suppressed a sigh, when she slipped it on her finger and let the ring catch the light.

“I had expected some absurdly gawdy ring, but this is actually nice. Will people notice it, though?”

Draco scoffed. “Gawdy rings are for the nouveau riche, Granger. This is taste. And people won’t need to notice it, if you keep your part of the bargain about the public kissing.”

He could have slapped himself. He was not supposed to direct her attention to the fact that this was the most important condition of his proposal.

“Ah, that!” she said. “We will kiss in public at least once a week and for four minutes straight. Just to be believable, preferably where photographers can catch us.”

She frowned. “That is so oddly specific, Malfoy. I get the publicity effect, but I would have thought that Malfoys are too dignified to snog in public.”

Draco shrugged as if it was not of great importance. “Four years, four minutes, I like the number.”

“Two minutes and not a second more.”

“Pinky promised,” Draco said. It was a good thing, that two minutes would be enough.

“And Malfoy, shouldn’t we stop calling each other by our surnames.”

“You’ve called me Malfoy for so long… And I fantasized about you calling me Draco for so long. Remember I had that crush all those years?”

She raised one eyebrow, at the brink of laughter again.

He took his refuge in another joke. ”So, that won’t do. You can’t call me Draco in public, not without me getting a quite embarrassing hard on.”

This time, she really toppled over laughing. “Can I quote you on that?”

“I’d prefer not. We can play it as teasing each other, and you can always call me, darling or honey or whatever.”

“Honey won’t do. You are not sweet.”

He took her hand and pulled her out of her chair. “You are not allowed to call me ferret, just for the record.”

He looked at her lips. “Maybe we should seal our agreement and rush on with that kiss.”

She licked her lips, playing the seductress. “Yes, dear.” The effect was quite ruined by her obvious amusement.

“Just shut your eyes and think about the house elves,” he said before he lowered his head to put his lips firmly on hers.

He took his time, carefully avoiding contact below their waistlines. Just when he could feel the relief kick in, the final relief, that he would not die on his twenty-fourth birthday, he changed the kiss for just a few seconds, so that it became open-mouthed and greedy. It was an effort to stop.

“Not bad, Malfoy,” she smiled. “My mental image of the freed house elves dancing almost blurred for a moment.”

“Think about all the fun we will have next week, everybody will be either mad or jealous.”

She looked sternly at him. “I want you to behave.”

“Really, no Gryffindor teasing? What a pity?”

“If you want to get in my good books, be a perfect gentleman, bring me Champagne and all that.”

“Come on, Granger, you’re not as good-hearted as you want everybody to believe. Admit it, you will wave the ring about and shove it into Brown’s and Patil’s face.”

She scowled, but her face softened in another bout of laughter. “O.k. I admit it, it will feel like vindication for all their bookworm remarks. So, I won’t balk if you tease Ron, but just a little.”

***

“How did it go?” his mother asked, when he stepped out of the floo.

“You don’t have to prepare for my funeral. And you can cancel your meeting with Hermione next week. The one, you set up without my knowledge.” He let himself fall into the chair next to her.

She had the grace to blush. “You cannot expect me to just stand by and let you die. A fortnight until your birthday, Draco!”

She scrutinized him. “You kissed.”

Draco nodded. He wondered how she knew. Was there a spring in his step now?

She left out a heavy sigh of relief. “She agreed. Oh Merlin, that was so close.”

“There will be around a hundred people at Harry’s and Ginny’s wedding. That should be enough.”

“So, it is Harry and Ginny?”

“Hermione told me, that she wants me to call her friends by her first name.”

“I see.”

“What did you tell her about your reasons?” His mother wanted to know.

“The truth.” He sighed. “Almost all of it. I just said it was a curse. She didn’t believe a word. Obviously.”

“Joking is such a useful mask.” His mother’s voice was soft. “I just want you to remember that it is a mask.”

“Considering the circumstances, mother, making her laugh is a beginning even if it is about the truth.”

His laughter held little mirth. “It could always be worse. I mean, she could always have said something like ‘I really want you to drop dead, Draco’, back in war times. She would have put me out of my misery, but the Hogwarts school would have been stuck with a rather inconvenient and inexplicable corpse.”

“I don’t think this is funny, Draco.” His mother pursed her lips. “Your great great-uncle Perseus Black didn’t die of the dragonpox after all. That is just what the family told everyone.”


	2. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years go by..... and the mutually beneficial arrangements are extended.

(four years later)

“What do you mean, irreconcilable differences? Nobody would believe that, Granger. We complement each other splendidly. Haven’t you read Luna’s article in the Quibbler? And I kept my end of the bargain. All the house elves are free!”

He really had not expected that. His heart clenched in sudden and excruciating fear. Not that he would have to suffer for long, if she left him.

“That is exactly why I expect a new offer, Malfoy.” He saw the corners of her mouth quirking upwards.

“Ah negotiations,” Draco almost sighed audibly, just caught himself in time.

“What about werewolves? Equal rights for werewolves, a Remus-Lupin trust? Wolfsbane for free?” He sounded far too desperate.

She raised an eyebrow.

“And there are still people who spit at me, when I pass,” he whined.

“Oh, poor Draco,” she said.

He flinched, his name on her lips eliciting an immediate reaction. Thank Merlin, there was a desk between them.

“A campaign for werewolves. I want you to start within the week.”

Draco swallowed. At least she had not said ‘immediately’.

“Another four years, then?” He licked his lips.

Hermione nodded. He reached out for her hand and pulled her closer, the desk still between them.

“Shut your eyes and think about all the werewolves happily playing dog with the wolfsbane inside them.”

Her taste was so sweet, the way she had said ‘poor Draco’ played again and again in his head. He almost lost control when she opened her mouth immediately.

When the two minutes had passed, he pushed his luck. “What about sex?”

“You know, what would be funny?”

He shook his head.

“If your father comes out of Azkaban next year and has to greet a half-blood grandchild. I would really like that.”

He felt his eyes widening and could barely believe his luck.

“Just to be a bit vindictive?”, he asked.

“Just to further the dismantling of pureblood ideas.”

“Werewolves and destruction of old prejudices, got it.” Draco let her go for a moment, rounded the desk, and pressed himself close to her. Bloody finally.

“If it’s a daughter, I want to pick the name.”

Draco barely heard her. That request was easy to fulfil.

***

(eight years later)

“Granger, have you seen Luna’s article on the sorry state of the British and Irish centaur herds? We should do something about that, don’t you think?”

“Ah, this time, you are the one to open negotiations, Malfoy?” She smiled.

“And it is rather generous of me, don’t you think so?”, Draco asked. “After all, a divorce in the middle of a pregnancy would be a bit awkward.”

“I want our son’s name to be Leo.” Hermione crossed her arms.

“Leo, like the lion. You want him to become a Gryffindor?”

“Yes.”

Draco closed his eyes, sighing in exaggeration, and putting on his whiny face.

She was not be deterred.

He edged closer.

“Shut your eyes and…”

“… think of the centaurs. Draco, I know the drill.”

His name on her lips had the same effect it always had. Fortunately, she still didn’t call him Draco that often. And the chances of her hitting the exact same wording she had used in sixth year were slim.

***

(twelve years later)

“I really want discrimination and injustice to end.”

Draco could feel himself pale. “You want discrimination and injustice to end? That’s completely unrealistic, Granger, can’t you do one step at a time?”

“Wands for goblins, Malfoy, I won’t do it for any less! I don’t care if this is the trickiest campaign yet.”

His relieved sigh was audible this time. “O.k. then.”

This time she came closer. “Look, Malfoy, I am sorry, I am so cranky. I am not at my best in the last month of pregnancy.”

She smiled and put her arms around his neck and let her head fall back.

“Draco.” She closed her eyes.

He hovered over her mouth. “Wands for goblins.”

***

(16 years later)

“We should have done this two weeks ago.”

“It’s your birthday, Malfoy. Surely this can wait.”

He shook his head. “We can’t postpone negotiations any longer.”

“You know that I won’t divorce you. It would be awfully inconvenient on the first of September. I wouldn’t do this to Lyra.”

“It’s tradition by now, Granger. So, stop stalling. Luna said, Nargles are neglected all over the world.”

“Nargles don’t exist, Malfoy. You can’t pull something like that out of your hat, just because you read it in the Quibbler.”

Her smile became positively mischievous, and Draco was thoroughly alarmed.

“You know, Draco,…” she said, licking her lips. The combination of her licking her lips and saying his name went straight to his guts. His head swam.

“What about veelas?” Her voice was so innocent.

“Veelas are not in trouble.”

“I should have been more specific. Male veelas.”

“These are mostly just a rumour, Granger.” He scoffed. “Veelas who do their mates every bidding. You know, this is straight out of a so-called romance novel.”

He did not dare look into her eyes. “Rumours are hardly worth your time.”

It was an effort to shrug.

She smiled, a wicked, wicked smile. “What about the one that is not a rumour?”

“Draco?”

He could hear his own heavy breath.

“What about him?”, he choked out.

“Don’t you think, that it is high time, he told his mate?” Her eyes bore into his. “You know, I could just speed this on and say, that I want you to tell me the truth, Draco.”

She touched his cheeks. “But then, you always tell me the truth, don’t you Draco? ‘Mostly just a rumour’. Or ‘Do you really want that?’ Or ‘Luna said’… You’re so good at this.”

She laughed, but he could not say, if she was amused. “But to let me remain in the habit of calling you Malfoy, must have been the most brilliant idea any veela ever had.”

“Hermione. You know, why,” he pressed out. She had not explicitly said. ‘I want’. Still it was difficult not to babble. “It should be a choice. For you and for me, mostly for you. I was trying to ensure that.”

“My love.” She touched his lips with her fingers, oh so tenderly.

“How do you know?” he whispered against the soft flesh of her thumb.

“I’ve read some books.”

He scoffed. “Of course, you did.”

She ticked it off her fingers. “You cannot lie to me.” Draco closed his eyes, listened to the music in her voice and wondered if she would leave him now. She would not let him die, he was sure about that, but a weekly two-minute kiss….

“You find it extremely difficult to deny me anything I want, especially if I call you by your name.” She laughed. “Remember, when I jokingly told you I wanted you to kill Antony Goldstein, because I was so annoyed with him? Your panic got me thinking.” He remembered that all too well. He was certain he would have to kill Goldstein and land himself in Azkaban.

“Fidelity is not an option for you, it’s a must.”

Draco shook his head just slightly. “It is unthinkable,” he whispered.

“You die, if we do not kiss at least for two minutes, once a week. You just put in this public thing, so that I would think it was for publicity reasons.” He still thought, that had been a clever idea.

“It runs in certain families, but it skips generations, sometimes several. It’s a Black thing, isn’t it?” He thought of great-great-uncle Perseus Black, who had not died of dragon pox, but of his mate wishing his death.

“A male Veela can find his mate between the age of 16 and 24. For some reason, it is important that his mate addresses him by his first name. And then he will know. He will just know. The sentence, the mate says in this moment, will forever be very arousing to the veela, even more so than just his name.”

“Draco,” her fingers touched his chin. “I want you to look at me.”

He opened his eyes. Her eyes were soft.

“I love you, Draco. You must know that. We have three children and together we are a force to be reckoned with. And it is my choice to love you. And it has been for a long time.”

He was a shuddering mess. His thoughts were whirling.

“I loved you even before I turned 16. I fought it so hard, insulting you, pranking you, and then it turned out you were my mate.” He chuckled. “Served me right.”

“And then I thought it was not important, because I would die anyway in the war.” He shook his head. “I always feared you might just tell me to drop dead.”

She laid her hand on his heart. “Draco,” she said. “There is something I want.”

He moaned.

“I want this for the rest of our lives, however long that will be. I want you to tell me, if you think you cannot fulfil my wishes or if you do not want to do what I say.”

He closed his eyes, overwhelmed. He loved her so much.

“What did I say to you? You must have thought it highly likely that I would say it by accident. Or you wouldn’t have gone to such great lengths to ensure, that I wouldn’t call you Draco.”

“It’s still not a good idea to call me Draco in public,” he pressed out. The blood was rushing in his ears.

“So what did I say?”

He inhaled slowly. “You’re going to laugh.”

“Draco, please tell me!”

“Do you want me to tell you?”

“No, your choice.” She smiled.

His secret would be safe with Hermione. She would not let him die. Her eyes were full of love. Just remembering made him so nervous.

“You shoved me. And then you said: ‘Draco, you are such an entitled prat.’”

Hermione’s eyes glinted. “Draco,” she said, “you are ….”

He clapped his hand over her mouth. “Don’t, just don’t. I have no idea, what will happen, if you say that… ”

“You’ll get aroused.” Hermione stated.

“Fuck Granger, I am already terribly aroused. You called me by my name a dozen times! If you say that, I might just… I can guarantee for nothing.”

“Draco,” she said, caressing his name, rounding her lips around his name.

She pressed herself to his body. He closed his eyes, relishing in feeling her. When he opened his eyes again, she let her tongue wet her lips. “We should do something about that. Please, bring me to our bed.”

He growled, kissing her possessively.

“We will make love and then you can boast about how good it was. Then I will tell you how you should not brag, in other words of course, and if I am not mistaken in my research on veelas, we can then start all over again.”

He picked her up.

“I’ll just close my eyes and think of veelas, or rather my veela.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Happy Birthday Draco Malfoy!
> 
> I just want readers to have fun with this!

**Author's Note:**

> The fun thing about Veela Draco is, that we can set practically any conditions.... 
> 
> This is just a plot bunny that crossed my mind and I thought that it would make for a good birthday fic.  
> I posted this to the Birthday collection although it has no smut. But Draco gets laid.


End file.
